


Stuff and Nonsense

by Queenspuppet



Series: Wonderland Is Where It's At [2]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other, Scott Lang is a goober, Sex Stuff, alien dream girls, bucky and darcy go back to the brothel, collage is good for the soul, the oral sex hill is back and more awkward than ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-16 01:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenspuppet/pseuds/Queenspuppet
Summary: Side scenes and outtakes from 'Queen of Wonderland.'(1) Team aesthetics(2) Scott Lang's adventures on the Crest of the Female Orgasm(3) Bucky treats Darcy to a night in the BrothelDedicated to JanetSnakehole who should be careful what she asks for. Chapters will be rated in their titles.





	1. A Mod Podge of Superheroes - Rated T for language

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JanetSnakehole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanetSnakehole/gifts).



Hi friends!! The next (maybe last, still not sure!) chapter of QoW is in the works but I wanted to start this little side affair before finishing that story up. These will be mostly fluffy or raunchy nonsense regarding Scott Lang in all his glory. But I do have thoughts for some Bucky POVs. We'll see! Unbeta'd cause it's all for my beta, JanetSnakehole. So you can blame her for Scott Lang on the Crest of the Female Orgasm chapter that's coming later. For now, have some arts and crafts nonsense!

 

* * *

 

 

Scott entered the bar and the smell of kindergarten greeted him, paste and paper and peanut butter. Sam was at a table to his right, the surface covered in scraps of paper and decimated magazines, as he carefully smoothed a torn out image of Solange Knowles onto a background of chrome cars.

 

“What’s happening here?” Scott asked. “Are you making a _vision_ board?”

 

“’S personal aesthetic exercise,” Sam muttered as he frowned down at his half-covered poster board. He pointed to the windows where a handful of finished collages were already hanging.Sam went back to flipping through a worn out magazine and added, “Lewis said it would help us learn about each other without making awkward conversation.”

 

Scott stopped in front of the closest board, which was really just a collection of Darcy Lewis’s middle finger posed against exotic or iconic backgrounds like Stonehenge and the Taj Mahal.

 

“Has anyone considered the idea that the new girl is fucking with us?” Scott suggested, while admiring her creative choices in scale and angle.

 

“Yeah but she worked some kind of insane troll logic on Steve,” Sam said with a shrug. He took a breath and cocked his head to the side. “It _is_ kind of relaxing, actually.”

 

After scanning quickly over Wanda’s - an upsetting theme of broken dolls and dilapidated buildings mixed in, oddly, with a handful of cheese based recipes - Scott stopped in front of Steve Rogers's aesthetic board. He knew it was Steve’s because it had J-U-S-T-S-T-E-V-E spelled out along the top of it with mismatched fonts. Below was an impressive photographic mosaic replication of the Captain America shield. The outer ring of red was made up of red painted lips, the inner ring of red curls, the silver parts were pasted together black and white images of the Great Depression and, incongruously, seamed stockings. Most disturbing was the blue around the center star (a black and white city scape of Brooklyn) made up of icy blue waters that were probably sourced from some National Geographic article about the arctic ocean. At the top corner of the poster board was a yellow star cut from kid’s construction paper that read ‘great job! nice application of shading’ in a curling script.

 

“Has anyone considered that _Steve_ is fucking with us?” Scott asked aloud.

 

Sam huffed while carefully snipping James Brown out of a Rolling Stone’s magazine.

 

Clint had glued an entire page of the Icelandic newspaper comics over his board, complete with Icelandic dialogue bubbles, and then just pasted small versions of the team's faces over the various characters. Clint had made himself Garfield. Scott was Odie. He was offended.

 

Finally there were two poster boards side by side that were nearly indistinguishable. They were both covered in clip outs of gun and weapons catalogs with scribbled notes, along with anatomical renderings of where the human body was most vulnerable. The main difference was that at the bottom left corner of one was a small picture of Darcy Lewis sitting at the computers, face obscured by her extended middle finger.He wasn’t in the picture but Scott remembered the moment, she’d flipped Sam and Clint off when they’d started suggesting she code for alerts on all you can eat wing deals around the world. Natasha had been offsite and Bucky’d been sitting at the bar, seemingly ignoring the rest of the room.

 

But maybe not.

 

 _This is very cute_ , Scott thought.

 

“Where’s Barnes right now?” he asked.

 

“Training with Steve,” Sam grumbled.

 

“Don’t get jelly,” Scott chided.

 

“Man, I am _not-_ ” Sam started.

 

“Pass me the Mod Podge. Ima show these chumps up with my aesthetical game.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

<3s and nonsense to you, my lovelies!!


	2. Scott Lang's and the Crest of The Female Orgasm - Rated E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did I write Scott Lang an Alien Dream Girl, or did I write an alien their Oral Sex Dream Boy?
> 
> That is the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what to say about this, other than if you like it, I'm so happy and if you side-eye me, I side-eye me too.
> 
> I'm keeping these pretty short and sweet and silly because I'm like 9000k into a Darcy/Johnny Storm romantic AU and it is totally taking over my brain!
> 
> This is unbeta'd and prematurely posted, I'm sure. But I gotta show JanetSnakehole some love before I dump that above story in her lap.

Scott Lang was striking out. No one on the hill seemed to need a hand…or a mouth…or in the case of the somewhat bored looking man who was checking for dirt under his fingernails three couples over, a pant leg. This was more disappointing when Scott considered that Sam had almost instantly vanished under a skirt. He could see them up a ways, the girl Darcy called Lawyer had her hands clamped over Sam’s ears with his hands cupped around her ass, dark fingers digging into light fabric. Scott wasn’t sure who was in charge there but Lawyer seemed more impressed than the last time he’d seen her and…oh whoops, he was watching his teammate tongue fuck a girl.

Right.

Turning around now.

Aha!

There at the bottom of the hill was a…woman or whatever the not quite human version of female might be, in a promising looking robe like dress. She was scanning the hill and when her eyes, cat green with little slitted pupils, landed on him he waved to her. She had tufts of dark hair that curled at the ends and shined rusty red under sunlight and she was walking up to meet him. Jackpot. He searched around for a bit of open space that didn’t look too bumpy and they met on grass two women with heads between thighs on one side of them and an older woman on the other who had shaken her head at Scott’s offer of assistance and said she’d had more practice than him. Fair enough.

The alien girl was peachy and lavender and she smelled like coconut macaroons, toasted and creamy. She had high cheekbones and low shoulders and she seemed fairly human-lady shaped under the robe.

“I’m in much need of relief,” she said with slow pauses as she worked the words out. She walked to the tip of Scott’s toes and reached thin, firm fingers to his chin, running a thumb over his stubble and slipping a digit into his mouth.

She tasted toasty and Scott tried not to react with too much surprise. But he did feel a little like a horse at market. Was she feeling his teeth? No, nope, she was checking out his tongue. He stretched it a bit and pointed the tip and her cat eyes blinked softly. He wrapped his lips more firmly around her finger, because if she was checking him for service he might as well perform, and sucked to the tip and back again.

Her cheeks turned peach and she blinked again.

“That’s good,” she said and then pulled her finger out to pet his cheek. “I like this,” she added scratching at the rougher hair over his chin.

“Noted,” he said.

And then he just stared as she whipped off the robe, lay it over the grass, and sank down, shifting to one side and then the other. She looked more or less like a woman - a stunning, airbrushed, violet version of a woman - with the weight of two breasts - were they just mammaries if you weren’t human? - and the slope of hips curving around the hairless ‘v’ of her mound. But also with peachy freckles and streaks across her skin, small webs between her toes, and what he was pretty sure were gills on her ribs. He wanted to look longer, she was beautiful and she was _strange_ and he wanted to ask questions and to touch.

She sat up on her elbows.

“Do you know what to do?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“What? No, I - Yes! Definitely. I know what to do,” he said, scrambling to his knees. He was pretty sure he knew what to do. Depending on if the same rules applied.

She lifted her heels and spread her legs out to either side of him and the creamy smell of coconut wafted up, stronger than before. That seemed…promising.

He was getting a little hard without any touch but a finger testing out his mouth, and hot at the back of his neck. But it wasn’t every day that he got a chance to eat out a beautiful alien woman. (It had come up once before though, while on a mission, but he’d been busy so he’d totally missed out.) But the peach over her cheeks was starting to fade. Right. She ‘needed much relief.’ Time to get to work.

Scott settled down onto his stomach, wiggling his hips to get the slight stiffness of his cock arranged somewhat comfortably. He lifted a hand up to stroke at the soft skin between her legs, brushing a knuckle up through the slit. She was warm and her skin was dark, almost wine colored, here. She sighed a little above him.

“That helps,” she said.

Which Scott took to mean, ‘I hope that’s not the best you’ve got.’ He leaned forward and licked a circle around her vulva. His eyes got wide. She tasted like sweetened condensed milk. She hummed and lowered herself back to the ground. As a guy who was pretty happy to eat your average fishy or tart pussy this was kinda…Christmas.

Awkward Christmas. More awkward than he’d imagined approaching a stranger with an offer of oral sex would be. But still, Christmas level opportunity here. Pretty alien who tastes like milky syrup.

Get to work, Scott.

Represent the men of Earth with dignity and excellent tongue action.

He lifted his chin up, remembering what she’d said, and brushed his chin back and forth over her. She shuddered on the ground, her legs twitching next to his shoulders, and he heard her sigh again, higher this time.

Better, he noted.

He licked at her center, spreading her open with his index finger and found a slightly different landscape before him with more layers of sensitive looking, deep purple red, skin. He mapped each fold out with his tongue, cataloguing every response. The twitch of her legs while he focused on the higher parts, the ripple of her stomach with a swirl of his tongue, the fluttering of her side gills with a long straight lick up. When he found a longer cluster of muscle that was nearly blue and rubbed his chin against it, she squealed, rolled her entire body down towards his face, and flushed indigo for a moment, like a burst of dark ink under her skin. He leaned back to check on her. Her lovely mammaries, winey and pebbled now at the tips, heaved for a few breaths.

“That was wonderful,” she said. “If you could…do it again, I would return the favor. I know somewhere near here.”

Scott blinked, “Oh!” He hadn’t realized that he’d…reached the goal so soon.

“If you are tired…” She started to sit up.

“No way!” he rushed to say, adding, “How many times?”

“Times?”

“How many more times do you want me to do it again?”

She blinked, cat eyes dark and dilated, and her cheeks almost sunset rosy. “How many more…can you?”

He thought about that. Some women took longer after coming, but some…

He stroked his fingers through the damp folds and she drooped against her robe. He grinned, then leaned down, wrapping his lips around one fold, sucking until she trembled, then moving onto another to repeat. When he accidentally bumped his nose against the dark blue knot she moaned, loud and long and rolled her body against him again, twice this time.

He sat up to look at her, the blue rush of pleasure fading under the pale lavender again, her eyes fluttering shut and open.

“How about twenty?” He asked, smiling. He was definitely getting hard now. He licked around his lips, tasting coconut, as she caught her breath.

“I don’t know that number in your language,” she said, trying to lift her head and failing, bits of grass already mixed into the strands of her hair.

He smiled, kissed her stomach, and then shifted down, pulling her legs up over his shoulders till her feet were resting on his spine.

“I’ll teach it to you,” he said, and then started counting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple more firm ideas in my head (Darcy and Bucky at the brothel again with a side of Scott and then Darcy and Bucky flirting with Heimdall, I think) but I'm very open to more ideas/prompts. I can't guarantee I will use them because I don't have the easiest time with that, but I will absolutely give it my best effort. Long live Wonderland!!
> 
> Also, if you ever want to get in touch with me for fun chats or silly thoughts you can find me on tumblr as ragwitch. I'm pretty awkward, naturally anxious, and very friendly.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! <3


	3. Maps - Rated E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's in charge of the night at the brothel.
> 
> aka, the Darcy/Bucky throne scene I teased about ages ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna post the new story before I worked on another update for these shorts but then BAM I had one sentence...and then the next... and then the whole scene.
> 
> And Scott didn't show up because Bucky and Darcy were having a nice time and I didn't want to interrupt them. If that alien oral didn't wig you out and you're still here, this might make up for it!  
> Unbetaed and I apologize if it's a bit of a mess!
> 
> I recommend the song Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (or the Rogue Wave version) as listening for this smex.

 

 

He’s never seen anything like her. Bucky is aware that he thinks this every time he looks at Darcy. Especially in moments like these, where she’s so open. Spread out for him to touch, the black maps washing over her skin, one hundred more pieces braiding around her body than the first time he’d seen them. Every time one appears in a new place he takes a look at her and thinks she’s too beautiful to change another inch, no more maps, please. Until a new Door has to be opened and a new map draws itself on flesh, perfecting the pattern all over again.

 

She stretches and stirs, eyes blinking and neck arching as she catches her breath again, bracing her arms on the dark throne. He’d picked it out himself, a solid black wooden beast of a seat carved with blooms and stag’s heads and feathers. She’d stared at it for over a minute after they’d found their room at the brothel and he’d been about to offer they look for something else available.

 

Then she whispered, “It’s so pretty.” And he knew he’d done alright.

 

She looks fae, resting there. Milky skin covered in black written lace, deep pink accents of lips and nipples and cunt. Dark swathes of hair over her shoulders, and the bone white crown of antlers sitting crooked on her head. Some kind of medieval myth. Something from his Gran’s old country. Not that he’d have wanted his Gran taking a look at Darcy now with her legs stretched wide, knees draped over the arms of the throne so he can have his way with her.

 

“Why are you staring when you could be touching?” she mumbles.

 

He tries not to feel _too_ smug with the rasp in her tone.

 

“‘Cause you're so damn nice to see,” he says. But he lifts her ankle up and presses his mouth to the new map of road that spirals around her bone and trails off down the arch of her foot.

 

“You like that one?” she asks.

 

“I like them all,” he says.

 

She smiles, small and delighted. “I know.” Confident words in the softest, shyest tone.

 

This is my girl, he thinks. Half steel and half porcelain. He lets her shield him with her sass and stubbornness and takes special care not to let anything bruise the tender parts of her.

 

She taps her toes on the underside of his chin. “I know you said I have to stay up here,” she says.

 

“It’s the rule,” he answers quickly. He has stay sharp with her or she’ll have the pair of them rolling together on the floor in half a minute.

 

“But is it against the rules for you to be up here with me?”

 

Either Darcy Lewis has had a shot of the super serum or he’s doing a half-assed job of satisfying her. Or maybe she just needs you as bad as you need her, he thinks and then dismisses.

 

“Dunno, doll, had a few more things in mind,” he says.

 

She sits up, and lifts her legs off the wood to settle her toes on the floor - just her toes, the throne is a little high for her. But she looks imperious all the same, even with the little antler crown sliding father to the left.

 

“I will remind you, James Barnes, that I gave you a freebie last time,” she points out, with an arched eyebrow.

 

He remembers, vividly, having her pressed between his hips and the wall of that wacky sea kingdom room. Uh oh. She’s breaking him already.

 

She leans closer, her breath soft against his face “Bucky, honey, I just need to feel you. Feel your cock filling me up. I need that stretch, baby.”

 

She had him growing hard at ‘honey’, but by the time she reaches ‘baby’ he’s up off the floor, some warm swooping feeling rushing through his limbs. She reaches to help with his buckle and he bats her hands away.

 

“Stand up, doll.”

 

He has a small, possibly sick, thrill with how she follows his order, legs straight and back stiff, like a little debauched soldier. He kicks out of his pant legs and settles into her place on the throne. It’s warm from her, and - he grins - a touch slippery.

 

She’s turned to him, trying to climb into his lap, when he takes her by the waist and spins her in place, lifting her and pressing her back to his front, sliding his legs between hers to open them wide. His cock is twitching against her, bumping and sliding in the wetness at her opening. He has to dodge out of the way of one of the antlers on her crown - he flicks it off her head to sit on the arm of the throne. Then he wraps his hands around her upper arms and holds her in place while she settles.

 

“Bucky,” she pants. She’s wiggling her hips on his lap, trying to catch the tip of him and pull him inside. “Bucky, _please_.”

 

He pulls her close and settles his chin on her shoulder to whisper in her ear. “Not yet, Darcy doll,” he says. “We’ll get there. But I need you to do something for me first.” He rolls his hips so that his cock slides against her, gentle and slow. “I need you to get me real nice and wet.”

 

She huffs as he moves against her again. “You…ass,” she says but over her shoulder he can see the tips of her breasts turning dark, pebbling, and a flush building over her cheeks.

 

“I know you like this,” he says, keeping his hips in a slow gliding pace, holding her tight enough against him so all she can do is echo his movements. He turns his head to kiss at her jaw. “You know I’ll take care of you, leave you just sore enough. But you like a little tease.”

 

There are mornings where she lets him do this, just drench himself with her readiness. And her body goes soft on the mattress, her eyes almost silver with pleasure, until he can’t stand not to slide in, press harder.

 

“Need to feel you,” she whimpers.

 

“We have time, doll,” he says.

 

He nudges her hair away from her neck with his chin and settles his mouth over her pulse to suck a beat in time with the rocking he has going lower. He bites, softly at first and then harder, and her moan vibrates against his teeth. Her hips hitch and her breasts start to bounce with a struggle, a need to wrestle for control. He releases and she sags, panting as he laves the skin with his tongue.

 

“Will you be a good girl?” he asks.

 

“Your best girl,” she says.

 

She’s closer than he thought, he can tell by that breathy begging note in her voice.

 

“That’s right. My very best. Put your hands on the arms of the chair for me, doll.” She does, fingers gripping white. “That’s good, Darcy doll.” He wraps his hands around her hips and she trembles the slightest bit under his fingers. He lifts himself up to press more firmly against her, and then pushes her forward and pulls her back against him. She gasps and he repeats, forward and back, over and over again, faster, tighter against her.

 

“Oh, fuck.” She leans back and her hair tickles his stomach. “Oh, god, Bucky, honey. That’s so- that’s so- fuck, Bucky that’s so _nice_ …” She draws the last word out with a hiss and he grins.

 

She’s described this to him before. A soft, slow orgasm, that she doesn’t fight for. One that's less about working herself up and more about letting herself fall. That just seeps through her like honey dripping. She goes soft in his arms and he can watch the feeling roll through her, down to where her toes are curling around his shins. Her shoulders are quivering and her breaths hiccuping and he can feel her coating every inch of him.

 

“You ready for me, doll?” he asks, still pressing against her, forward and back, even as her elbows are wobbling in place.

 

“Wanna, wanna look at you,” she manages. “Kiss you.”

 

It takes him a minute to shift them around. She’s turned to jelly and all she seems to want to do is snuggle closer to his chest. But when he’s managed to untangle her legs, he slides inside with barely a nudge. She’s soft and hot and swollen and sopping around his cock and he has to suck a bruise into the side of her neck to keep from shouting and starting before she’s ready.

 

She shifts on him, sighing softly, tucking her feet against his thighs.

 

“This is what I wanted,” she says, rising up and sinking down onto him.

 

He buries a grunt. “Sorry,” he says. “Thought you were having a good time.”

 

She rolls her eyes and clenches him tight inside her so he gasps.

 

“Don’t know _where_ you’d get that kind of idea,” she says.

 

He shifts in the seat, watches her bottom lip tremble as her mouth falls open a little with the new angle inside. He leans forward to sip and nibble at her pout and her arms wrap over his shoulder.

 

“Love you,” she whispers against the lobe of his ear.

 

This isn’t fair, he thinks, as a heat builds in his gut with her words.

 

“Love you,” he answers, bracing her back with his arms to pull her closer, hold her tighter, keep her longer.

 

Her head falls back, eyes bright silver with pleasure and her hands brace over his shoulders so she can work herself down onto him, chests catching and sticking with sweat.

 

“Oh, god, Bucky, you feel so good, so good…fuck.”

 

He smiles as the scales seem to tip in his favor, the balance even for the moment.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3<3<3<3<3
> 
> Leave me some sugar!


End file.
